


Could Be Worse

by park3rborn



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Confessions, F/M, M/M, baby bisexual business, finished but unfinished if that makes sense, it got angsty i'm sorry, zevran is scattered in here because I love my boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-06 23:24:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12828345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/park3rborn/pseuds/park3rborn
Summary: Some requested Morrigan and Alistair banter that got kind of out of hand. Alistair worries that Morrigan is bad for the Warden.





	Could Be Worse

It was no secret to anyone that Alistair and Morrigan were not on good terms, to put it lightly. Alistair and Lazarus both had concerns about Morrigan's trustworthiness when she first joined their merry band of misfits, and while the Warden had grown fond of Morrigan, Alistair had not. When he told Alistair about his relationship with Morrigan, he had never seen a man pale so quickly in his life. 

"Sorry, so we're clear- you're,  _you_ , are in a..." he hesitated, straining to even voice this new reality, "relationship... with Morrigan. The same Morrigan who grew up in the woods and whose mother is a literal evil witch. That same Morrigan and you are..."

"Alistair, I know you don't necessarily approve, but she's not as bad as you think."

"Not as bad as I think?" Alistair blustered, utterly baffled by this entire turn of events.

Zevran, back turned to the two, offered over his shoulder: "Alistair, you have  _seen_ her, yes?"

Lazarus gestured in agreement. "In her defense, Alistair, she's got every right to be distrustful of an ex-Templar, as do I."

"But she-"  _She's evil! She's got nothing in common with you beyond happening to be a mage! She's barely a mage at that!_

"But," the Warden continued, "I like you regardless of your background. Just do me a favor and try to play nice? I'd like to keep both of my friends from killing each other, if at all possible. I'm doing this regardless of your approval, Alistair, but I had hoped you would be at least a little happy for me." The Warden moved to leave, signalling that their conversation was over. Alistair sighed, acquiescing for now.  

Alistair had been mulling over his best friend's relationship thoroughly for several days, and before leaving for a somewhat routine trip to Redcliffe, he decided that the best way to determine if his friend was in harm's way because of the witch would be to ask her herself. He planned it all out, the way he would word his questions, his reactions to her various answers. It seemed simple enough, and he was sure that he had thought it out enough that the Warden couldn't accuse him of being uncivilized to his partner.

Unfortunately, the planning went out of the window as he hyped himself up to talk to the damn woman. 

"So... Morrigan."

She did not respond, only the tightening of her mouth betraying that she had heard him and that he had not hallucinated that he had even said anything.

Alistair cleared his throat. The Warden eyed him with some anxiety, and Zevran seemed preoccupied, fiddling with some contraption.  _Now or never, loverboy._

"So, what's the deal with you and him, anyway? Dare I ask?"  _Maker_ _, look what you've done. This is not what we rehearsed!_ It was too late. This was happening.

Morrigan glanced over, lips pursed. "Him? Him who? Is this supposed to mean something to me?"

Alistair clenched his jaw. Trying to be civil with this woman was damned near impossible.

"You know exactly who I'm talking about."

The Warden raised his eyebrows and made a good show about watching the earth for obstacles. This was going very poorly for everyone except perhaps Zevran, who seemed to have moved onto practicing knot tying. Realistically, he was also listening in. Maybe this was not the best location to do this.  _Perhaps some genlocks will appear and just add to the awkwardness of this mess._ Luckily (or not) Morrigan interrupted his thoughts.

"You are jealous, aren't you?" She sounded snide. Of course she did.

"What?"

"Did I take your favorite Grey Warden away from you?" she sneered at him. He seethed, feeling his face flush.

"I'm not jealous."  _I'm trying to protect my friend, witch._

She cooed in mock sympathy. Zevran had given up pretending to not listen at this point. Lazarus appeared to have projected himself into the Fade in order to get away from this. Civility was no longer an option.

"In fact, I'm horrified." 

"Oh, but those blushing cheeks of yours tell a different tale."  

She had him there. "These blushing cheeks are terrified that you'll come for their blood once you're done with him." He felt like that one was a zinger. The Warden sighed, evidently having returned to his body.

Morrigan looked at him directly, amber eyes burning into his. He would not look away, not after digging himself this far down. Her eyes narrowed as she said, very plainly, "If I feel the need to  _suck_ on anything of yours, Alistair, you will be the first to know."

The party went dead silent. Alistair could feel the red burning on his ears and cheeks. "That was not what I meant."

"Wasn't it?"

"Are you offering, then?" Anger and the need to protect the Warden overtook whatever part of his brain usually spit out anxious retorts. To his credit, Morrigan looked somewhat taken aback for a moment, then took a breath to say something equally scathing.

"Can both of you shut up?" demanded the Warden. Everyone had stopped by this point, standing in the sunny patch between the shade of some of the nearby forest's trees. 

"But dear, he instigated this," Morrigan complained.

Alistair hesitated, choosing his words for the first time today very carefully, and spoke with equal intention. "Can any of you blame me for wanting what's best for my friend?"

"Is that all you want, Chantry boy?" Morrigan asked pointedly.

"No, that's not all I want."

"Alistair," the Warden began. 

"No, no, let me say this. I've dug myself this deep, I might as well."

Smirking, Morrigan said, "Hmm, please do enlighten us on what you want."

Alistair returned his gaze to Morrigan's face, face hardened. "Well, Morrigan, I'd like an end to the bloody Blight. I'd like to not get a migraine every time I even think about Archdemons. I'd like to go back in time and bash in that bastard Loghain's skull for betraying Cailan and killing literally nearly every person I held dear to me at Ostagar. I'd like to be able to kiss pretty men and not fear the Maker's wrath. I'd like to own several dogs and live on a farm with my lover, far away from people who seem to relish in antagonizing others, such as yourself, instead of actually listening to a person and taking them seriously." Each word came tumbling out like water rushing out of a failing dam, inhibitions swept away in the moment. Morrigan, stung and pouting, looked away from him. "And yet despite all I want, here I am, walking around the woods with a witch, a man I thought might have had better taste in lovers, and the assassin who failed to kill him, and I've just spilled my guts to them and..." It suddenly dawned on him that he had shared much too much personal information with mixed company.  "This is ridiculous. I'm going for a walk." He broke off from the group to find some water, or something to cool down his hot face. 

As Alistair disappeared into the treeline, Lazarus stared at Morrigan in sheer disbelief. "Zevran, please hold down the fort while I try to do some damage control." 

"As you wish." The Warden heard Zevran move to talk to Morrigan as he left to follow Alistair, but was too wrapped up in himself to bother listening in. With some luck, Zevran would talk some sense into the woman and convince her to never antagonize Alistair like that again, if there was a next time. He reconsidered his relationship with Morrigan. Bad childhood or no, she knew how much Alistair meant to him and to just continue to egg him on to get him to that point... his reverie was broken as he found a creek where Alistair had already shucked off his boots and peeled off his mail to stand in the water. He hesitated at the bank, mulling over if being there would make things better or worse. 

"Alistair?"

Alistair gently shook his head and continued to stand in the water, intermittently bringing up some to his face. The silent treatment was not what Lazarus had come here for. He quietly took off his own boots and tucked the hem of his skirt into his the waist of his pants to keep relative dry, and stepped into the cool water, just downstream of Alistair.

"Stupid," Alistair mumbled. 

They stood in an awkward silence, Lazarus somewhat at a loss for some kind of response that would be tactful, comforting, and confrontational all at once.

"I did try to be civil," Alistair finally said to Lazarus, clipped.

"Are you all right?" 

**Author's Note:**

> As you can tell.. I do not fuck with Morrigan. Sorry not sorry.  
> ANYWAY I was too lazy to really finish this. And I'm sorry for that. Uhhh anyway this is my life.


End file.
